Diddling Sisters
by snippetcentric
Summary: The tiny words that started it all. f!Hawke x Bethany. Kink-fill, be warned.
1. Revelation

A/N: A short rhyme to start things off, free form. Don't burn me, litmajors.

_In secret I filled a kink_

_and told Heath with a wink._

_Sisters are loving,_

_They're oh so charming!_

_I avoid the incoming brick._

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><p>It all started innocently enough. Bethany had always admired her older sister, Marian. Looks, ability, confidence, all wrapped in one neat package. She herself was pretty enough, but between the two of them it was almost always Marian who drew the most wanton of stares from men and women. Whatever femininity the eldest Hawke child lacked she compensated with elegance and constant confidence. Bethany was never jealous of the attention, really. Truth be told she'd rather not get any. It came with being an apostate, she supposed; hence Bethany dismissed her near idol-worship of her sister merely as vicarious living.<p>

She was living blissfully in ignorance until the pirate queen had to open her fat mouth that fateful day in the Keep.

"Coming here of my own free will feels wrong...like diddling a sister."

It didn't help that Marian was standing beneath the dazzling light that filtered into the barrack's large windows that moment, tucking in a stray lock of her silken dark hair behind her ear and batting those impossibly long eyelashes as she spoke with Aveline. Even Marian's glacial blue eyes seemed more radiant than ever at that very moment.

Weak-kneed, Bethany could have sworn that even Andraste herself could not hold a candle to her lovely sibling.

She caught her thoughts and swallowed.

It can't be.

But it is.

Bethany Hawke is smitten with Marian Hawke.

A younger sister smitten with an older sister.

The usually-composed apostate threw her hands in the air and cried to Isabela, surprising everyone in the barracks. "Why? Why do you say these things!"

* * *

><p>And so begun Bethany's agony. It used to be she could hug, share a bath, Maker, even kiss Marian (chastely, she must add) and think nothing of it. Now, she could not even brush against her big sister's bare skin without thinking of how divine it would feel to grind against that lean, supple...<p>

"Penny for your thoughts, Bethy?"

The youngest Hawke stopped brushing her hair and tensed in her seat. A playful smirk was on Marian's lips as she lay languidly on the battered mattress across from Bethany. Blood immediately made its way to the younger sister's cheeks. "I'm sorry, _Sister_," she sighed, emphasizing the last word for her own sake. "Were you saying something?" Bethany asked, turning her face against the faint light to hide her discomfort.

Marian tsked and lay the book she was reading on her lap. "I said 'if you want to sleep early I could move my reading to the other room.'"

"I'm fine," Bethany shook her head and continued with her ritual, rhythmically stroking her hair. "Want some more light?" she offered with a wavering voice.

"Thank you, but I'm good," Marian declined, not even looking up from her book as she turned a page. Without a modicum of modesty the older sister scratched the underside of her breasts through the thin fabric of her loose and sleeveless shift. Again, Bethany found herself staring at her alluring sister. Marian was dressed in nothing but the shift and her smalls, showing off a lithe and chiseled body, toned arms and endless legs splayed about, all results of her constant swordwork. Tell-tale nipples stuck out from the sheer fabric of Marian's garment.

"Maker, aren't you cold?" Bethany said hoarsely then threw a moth-eaten blanket at her sister. "Cover up, will you!"

Marian caught the poor sheet before it hit her face and laughed in that crisp manner she always did. "Oh, Bethy, it's not like you haven't seen me naked already," Marian jibed as she primly covered her legs with the drab blanket.

The statement sent a shiver down the younger girl's spine and a rush of blood to her pelvis. She shook the thoughts of a _very naked_ and a _very inviting_ Marian away from her mind. She sighed. Perhaps she should take Isabela up on her Blooming Rose offer, after all.

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><p>AN 2: For those who frequent DAkink, yes, this is slightly different. It's more tolerable, we have th1nm1nt to thank for that.


	2. Agony

A/N: This might become a habit so I shall stop myself here.

_And then th1nm1nt knew,_

_He huffed and called me a shrew!_

_But there was a twinkle in his eye_

_That simply could not lie;_

_And now he's innit too!_

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><p>"What? You're not coming to Sundermount?" Marian asked Bethany with disbelief. She rested her chin on the edge of Bethany's top bunk and worriedly looked at her baby sister. "And I was hoping to take you somewhere pretty for once," the older sister whispered as she pushed away the stray lock of hair on Bethany's forehead.<p>

"Yes, Sister, pardon but I have to pass," Bethany wheezed on cue and channeled heat to her forehead. She wasn't sick, actually, save for lovesickness. She just needed to stay home and take care of some things...

"Guess I'm stuck with Anders for this trip," Marian sighed then leaned over the bunk, landing a soft kiss on her younger sister's forehead. The chaste contact was enough to make Bethany gasp, her temperature shooting up without the aid of magic. A sweet smile was on Marian's lips she pulled back, once again resting her chin on the edge of the worn wood. "I'll just get you a nice souvenir from the Dalish camp then," Marian promised in a hushed voice.

Bethany nodded meekly and covered herself entirely with her blanket. If she stared at Marian any longer she might be unable to resist the overpowering urge to kiss her in a _not-so-chaste_ manner. "Mmm, take care, Sister," she mumbled softly and feigned sleep. She listened to the subsequent sound of Marian's footsteps retreating from the room and the opening and closing of the creaky door. Moments passed before Bethany reached into her smalls and closed her eyes, summoning from memory the warmth of her sister's lips against her skin. She imagined the same warmth upon her own mouth as her finger brushed against the welling spring between her thighs, biting back a moan when her finger stroked the hardened nub of pure need.

Maker preserve her, she was down to masturbating to thoughts of her own sister. Still, it was better than diddling, as Isabela would have said it, _the real thing _so Bethany continued indulging herself in guilty pleasure.

"Bethany?" came Leandra's concerned voice, right beside her bunk.

"M-mother!" the girl squeaked as her eyes shot open and was met with a very concerned look from the doting Leandra.

"Marian said you are sick," Leandra declared and reached a hand over her daughter's forehead. It was only then that Bethany pulled her hand away from her soaked nether regions. Leandra did not seem to notice as she merely pulled her hand back and made a slight smile. "Doesn't seem to be a fever," her mother commented then wiped the thin sheen of sweat from Bethany's face. "Is it because it's so stuffy here?"

Bethany nodded with burning cheeks.

"Good," Leandra said then kissed Bethany on the very same spot Marian did. "Just take it easy for now, I'll bring you breakfast," she said and stepped away from the bunk with relief washing over her features.

"Of course, Mother. Thank you," Bethany replied again with a nod and a forced smile. Oh, if only her mother knew.

She wanted to crawl into the deepest hole she could find.

* * *

><p>Bethany sat idly on one of the elaborate benches littered around Hightown's courtyard, waiting for Isabela to finish her business with Fenris in the mansion. She would have liked to join the pirate inside but she did not care for the elf's malicious glares and the poor housekeeping. Bethany tipped her head back and looked up to the clear sky. It was the same color as Marian's eyes. She sighed wistfully. It had been two days since her sister left for Sundermount, days which Bethany spent cooped up in Gamlen's hovel. Isabela had all but dragged the younger Hawke out of the smelly abode, sniping that there are better things to do than playing doting sister for Marian. The change was welcome, really, even if 'better things' meant tagging along Isabela's daily rounds.<p>

Besides, she could only touch herself so much. If so much self-pleasure to thoughts of Marian making mad love to her wasn't enough to rid her of unhealthy desires, nothing else could.

And so, with legs swinging back and forth, Bethany leisurely observed Hightown's inhabitants. Dressed in Isabela's 'loaned' finery, Bethany passed as a noble, avoiding the nobility's upturned noses normally directed at her and her countrymen. To her surprise, some were likewise appraising her, in a manner that announced more than curiosity. She shifted self-consciously from her seat and feigned nonchalance, discreetly catching the eyes of those showing an interest. It was better than just waiting.

A rather dashing young man with short dark hair caught her eye, promptly giving her a smile and a small bow of his head. Bethany mustered every bit of grace in her body as she eyed the man as subtly she possibly could. She frowned. His skin was somewhat dark...and flawed. He was also hunched. Certainly not worthy of comparison to...

No, no, no, none of that. She moved her gaze to the next noble.

A tall woman, dressed to the nines and exuding an air of confidence a mile away was regarding her with a smirk. Bethany's pulse jumped; it was how she imagined Marian would look in a dress, save for the long and elegant curls falling down to the woman's shoulders. Pretty face too, she supposed. Blue eyes, so pale they almost looked gray, peeked from beneath the woman's fluttering lashes. She narrowed her eyes. Again, the noblewoman had nothing on...

Bethany shuddered and turned away, burying her face in her palms. Who was she kidding? Even if her fingers broke and got stuck between her legs she would still be aching for her sister.

_Sister._

_Marian Hawke is her Sister._

She groaned into her palms. As much as she loved her family and upbringing Bethany suddenly found herself wishing her last name was not Hawke. Right next to wishing she wasn't a mage.

"Whoa there, Sweetness, sounds like that came all the way from the Anderfels."

Bethany peeked through her fingers and saw the pirate queen before her, a casual smile on her face. "Isabela," Bethany exhaled and patted the spot next to her. Isabela declined with a wave and offered Bethany a hand instead. Used to being led, Bethany took the hand and was promptly brought to her feet. "Took you long enough," Bethany mumbled as she straightened out her skirt. "I thought you left me for Fenris."

"Aww, Sweetness, couldn't do that even if I wanted to," Isabela cooed and with Bethany's hand in hers she led them down the stairs to the chantry courtyard.

"Should I be flattered then?" Bethany asked with a faint smile, following in step with the dark Rivaini.

Isabela chuckled heartily. "I don't do flattery, dear. I just hop straight to getting naked." They bounded off the stairs and made a right turn to Hightown's central courtyard. Isabela winked over her shoulder to Bethany. "I'd do that but Hawke threatened to gut me should I try."

Bethany laughed with a shake of her head, her eyes becoming distracted as they passed the old Amell estate. Center of Hightown, right below the Viscount's Keep; prime piece of real estate. She sighed, lamenting how far her family had fallen.

"You're really down in the dumps, aren't you?" Isabela asked as she elbowed Bethany in her side, again turning right as they passed the corner of the Amell estate. "Honestly Bethany you could use a hobby other than pining for sister," the pirate gibed with a smirk.

"I-I don't-"

Isabela ignored Bethany's sputtering and instead made a ceremonious arc of her arm to the building behind her. "But don't you worry! I've got just the thing."

The younger woman's eyes widened as she realized where they were.

The Red Lantern District.

Ergo.

The Blooming Rose.


	3. Francesca

A/N:For a kinkfill this is sure lacking in smut. Not for long! A bit of trivia; this was supposed to never see the light of this site, I only posted it at Heath Wingwhit's prodding/gunpoint. Hence the pseudo-limericks. But enough of that. Last chapter next!

A/N 2: Oh and again, thank th1nm1nt. His edits made this oh so so better!

* * *

><p>Bethany turned on her heel and bolted.<p>

At least, she tried to. Alas, Isabela was simply too fast for her.

"Nuh-uh-uh," Isabela said, wagging a finger as she put her other hand on Bethany's shoulder to halt her escape. "We didn't go through the trouble of dressing you up just so you could be a hermit in your smelly cloister." Tugging on her arm now, she tried to lead Bethany back to the brothel's dark alley.

The younger Hawke, however, remained planted. She considered shaking Isabela's hand off but hissed to the pirate's ear instead. "We already talked about this. And who goes to a brothel this early in the day?"

A pair of templars smelling of heady perfume walked past them, answering Bethany's question. Now she really did not want to go there.

"Oh, don't worry about them, sweet thing. They won't dare do their official business in there. Just imagine how their report would look." Isabela formed a small frame with her hands and spoke in a mannish voice. "'We caught her in the Rose while whoring on duty.'" Before Bethany could post another objection, Isabela was back to tugging on her arm. "Anyway, you don't have to get laid if you do not wish it, but a few drinks with Rose's finest will do wonders for your mood."

"'Bela..." Bethany said warily.

Isabela cast a pleading look to the younger Hawke. "Oh, c'mon. It'll be fun!" she appealed and took Bethany's hands in her own.

"_'Bela..." _Bethany again drawled, obviously remaining unconvinced.

Isabela upped the ante. "I'm asking this as a favor," she pleaded again. Bethany winced; the word 'favor' weighed heavily upon her. "Everyone's on that damn trip to Sundermount except Fenris and he's dead drunk by now."

A round of coquettish giggling made them pause and look to their side. There they saw an attractive woman around Bethany's age. The younger Hawke recognized her as a..._worker, _from the Rose. The woman blew Isabela a kiss. Isabela caught it and blew a kiss right back.

Bethany, meanwhile, got the lesser prize of a wink. If she could blush down to her toes, she would.

"That's Francesca," Isabela nudged Bethany's side as they watched the woman saunter to her workplace. "I think you'll like her," the pirate continued her ribbing.

Bethany fiddled around with the lace of her skirt and saw the pirate's cited whore disappear into the brothel. There was no fighting Isabela's insistence. Perhaps if she indulged the Rivaini's generosity just a bit; have Francesca sit on her lap and grope her a little, Isabela might let her get away with just that and go home. Her shoulders went slack with resignation.

"Very well, 'Bela. Let's get this over with."

* * *

><p>Hence Bethany found herself with Francesca on her lap and handsome Adriano clad in a meager thong at her side, readily pouring her wine. In a provocative manner. Who knew that was possible? Not her, of course. In a mix of wide-eyed horror and awe Bethany watched the glistening man bend before her, his round and firm rump on full display. The man must have noticed her staring because he wiggled his ass right in her face. Bethany almost fell from her seat, whipping her head away from the shiny and glittery rump.<p>

And ended up nose-to-nose with woman on her lap.

"Finally, your eyes are on me," Francesca chirped, practically breathing down Bethany's lips. "And here I thought I wasn't charming enough."

The younger Hawke nearly swallowed her tongue, quite literally. "Oh, no! You're quite charming, really," she stammered, trying to ignore the press of the woman's breasts against hers. Francesca was too booby, not that _that _was bad. It was just that she was more booby compared to-

"But enough about me," the woman on her lap declared, making a smile that held a silent promise. Bethany's blood was in constant flux these days, one moment to her head, the next to her pelvis. She almost did not catch Francesca's question. "I heard you're related to the Hero of Ferelden, is that true?"

"Ah-I am," Bethany nodded, her inquiring eyes darting to Isabela across the table. The pirate winked in reply. Narrowing her eyebrows, she wondered what tall tales Isabela had weaved about her. She could be as bad as Varric at times. The weight of soft arms on her shoulders brought Bethany back from her thoughts to find Francesca holding a wineglass to her face.

"Maybe you share some of those 'heroic' talents..." Francesca whispered into Bethany's ear.

The hot breath on Bethany's skin sent goosebumps along her skin. Perhaps the wine would help ease her nervousness. With a shaky hand she took the wineglass and made a small sip. Her eyes widened as she 'Mmm'ed at the sweet taste. "This is better that what I've had at the Hanged Man!" she exclaimed.

Isabela laughed as she threw her arms around the elves surrounding her. "Everything's better here than at the Hanged Man, Sweetness," she said with a raise of her glass.

Bethany nodded, reveling in the slow warmth the wine stoked within her. Right along with Francesca's welcome company. It was a welcome respite from her inappropriate fantasies.

And so one glass of wine became two.

Then five.

Soon, a bottle of Sun Blonde Vint-1 was flushed down Bethany's throat.

Past that point Bethany did not care that she was snogging Francesca. And was pawing all over the scantily-clad woman's body. Nor did Bethany care that the woman had taken the liberty of riding her lap like a prized pony and put her hot tongue inside her mouth. It was better, really, otherwise moans of 'Marian' might have escaped her lips.

Patrons and workers of the Rose whistled and cheered with Isabela at its helm. Bethany barely caught the mention of the pirate asking for a room but again she didn't care. Especially not when Francesca's hand just breached her smalls.

"BETHANY!"

Time stopped in the brothel. Bethany pulled her lips away from the whore on her lap and saw Marian and...Marian(?) wobbling her way towards her. She narrowed her eyes. Maybe it was her vision that was wobbling. In a blur the weight from her lap was removed, along with an indignant 'Hey!' from Francesca. When her vision cleared her very very adorably miffed big sister(s) came into view.

"'allo, Shister," Bethany greeted, her slurred tone sounding foreign to her own ears. "When d'ya came back?" she asked as she stood up. The floor became water. Or just her legs. Whatever. She fell into her sister's arms. Leather, blood, and the distinctive scent of Marian filled her nostrils. It intoxicated her further.

"Hawke, I can-"

"Not now, Isabela!" Marian snapped and shot the pirate a deadly glare. The pirate held her tongue as told. With a sigh, Marian cupped her sister's face with one hand and softly tapped her cheek with the other. "Bethy, sweetheart, you alright?" she asked, that sweet voice filled with concern.

"Mmm," the younger Hawke responded with a goofy, drunken smile. The two Marians merged into one. Good. She'd be too lucky to have two. Or doubly unfortunate, since she could have neither. The concern in her sister's fine face crushed her heart.

Her dilemma came back with a vengeance. Bethany was overwhelmed with misery as she buried her face in Marian's chest and began crying.

"Bethany! What's-"

"It's _your_ fault!" Bethany wailed as she feebly pounded against Marian's leather chestpiece. The brothel's folk slowly came to life and started murmuring among themselves. Marian held her sister closer but all it did was muffle Bethany's loud crying. "_Your bloody fault_!"

"Err...I think we should take her out of here," Isabela suggested as she looked at the very angry Madame Luisine. The burly bouncers at the proprietress's sides announced the gravity of the situation.

"_I _should take her out of here," Marian corrected as she lifted the sobbing girl in her arms then nodded to the also angry Francesca. "You take care of the mess."

"You're such a downer," Isabela groused as she crossed her arms over the ample chest. "She was only having fun."

Before Marian could make a response, Bethany resumed wailing. "CHANGE YOUR MOTHER!" the younger Hawke screamed in her sister's ear.

Marian hurriedly carried her wailing sister away from the crowd.


	4. Anything You Ask

A/N: Fun fact, out of the 4,007 words in this chapter, 1,994 is dedicated to...you know. Dedicated to Heath and th1nnie and _everyone_ who left me reviews and placed this on alert. You fuel my burning passion for this forbidden couple.

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><p>Bethany did not know why she was crying. Well, she did. The reason was absurd though; she was pining for her unattainable sister. She already knew that before and there was absolutely no reason for wailing like a spoiled brat now. She shouldn't be doing that. Especially not when she was in the strong arms of said sister. Down to sniffles she observed Marian's profile and even under the cover of night (how long had she been drinking?) she could tell she was angry. She has never made her angry. Bethany shivered with guilt. Still, despite being angry, her sister managed to look lovely.<p>

Again, that little word.

Bethany resumed crying and swatting at Marian's face.

"Oww, Bethy! Watch it!" Marian winced and drew as far away from her sister as her neck could allow. Which wasn't much, considering the younger girl was right in her arms. "What's gotten into you?" she asked, closing her exposed eye from Bethany's lame attacks.

"You have!" Bethany cried and buried her face against Marian's neck, all the while still beating on her sister's face. Unadulterated eau-de-Marian assaulted her senses, sweeter than she could ever recall. All it did, however, was fuel Bethany's misery; making her swat harder on top of kicking, all the while wailing, "You're horrible, Marian. _Horrible!"_

"That-_stop_!" Marian cried, getting socked on the jaw. It was a mystery how she kept the younger Hawke in her arms. "Stop squirming!" she pleaded to no avail.

"HORRIBLE!"

The dark Hightown alley suddenly became bright.

"Shit!" the older Hawke spat and Bethany found herself crashing on the cold pavement. She was about to complain to Marian when she saw the cause of her release.

Marian was stomping on her burning cloak.

Burning because of _her_. Her emotion and alcohol-addled magic, to be precise. What a sobering epiphany.

Bethany hobbled on her feet and joined Marian in stomping the fire out, vaguely reminding her of the time they did the same on fresh grapes to make wine. Her sister still had long hair back then. A flicker of long, juice stained legs emerged from memory. Good times, good times. Oh, she wasn't sober enough. "What am I doing?" Bethany hissed then breathed freezing air at the burning cloth. The fire was immediately snuffed.

The pair were about to heave a sigh of relief when a terrified scream came from behind them.

"Apostate! Call the templars!"

"I think there's some at the Rose!"

Bethany froze in terror. Now she was _really _sober. A forceful tug on her arm knocked sense back into her.

"Move it!" Marian whispered in urgency, pulling her towards some unknown haven. Bethany nodded and scrambled on her feet. Wherever that unknown was, it must be better there where the templars could be upon her any moment.

Several twists and turns and Bethany realized Marian had whisked her to the old Amell estate. Ominous clicking of heavy boots echoed in the distance. Bethany looked over her shoulder in alarm then back to Marian. Her sister was swiftly shuffling through her set of skeleton keys. "Sister..." she drawled with panic.

"Patience, Bethy," the older Hawke droned, calmly perusing the front door's weathered keyhole.

Faint light emerged from the corner, along with the louder clattering of armor. As she uttered a silent prayer, Bethany felt whatever warmth she had in her body die out. She focused on her sister instead. Marian had moved on to _actually_ picking the lock, her lovely features set in complete devotion to her task. Bethany forgot about the templars for the moment. Those thin brows drawn together, bright eyes narrowed along with the pursed lips and those long, elegant fingers dexterously playing with the key to an unknown hymn that would undo that darn lock. It was a breathtaking sight.

Bethany wished she was that door. And the keyhole was her-

"I think they went through here!"

Bethany's impending scream was drowned by her sister's hand over her mouth. The next thing she knew she was being pulled into blinding darkness of the empty mansion with the large door closing quietly behind her. Just in time too. The play of light and shadow through the sliver beneath the door announced the templars's presence.

"Not here either."

"Pro'bly to Lowtown, come on!"

It seemed like a breathless eternity before the click and clack of heavy armor disappeared into the distance. Even after that the sisters remained unmoving and the only sound Bethany could hear was the thunderous beating of her own heart. It had been a while since she had ran into such close calls. Close calls that were never caused by her own actions, until now. Stupid, stupid. Her father would be disappointed. She deflated with a sigh.

The act was reflected behind her ear.

Bethany tensed. Danger past, she quickly became aware of Marian's warm body pressed against her back, arm snaked around her waist, and hand still upon her mouth. She barely resisted the urge to lick it.

"Give us some light," Marian whispered right to her ear. Bethany would have jumped and shrieked if not for the strong arms restraining her. "What _is _wrong with you?" her older sister asked, rising temper finally hinting in her tone.

"Nothing," Bethany replied as the faint glow from her hand filled the room. Marian then eased her hands off Bethany, who wasted no time in stepping a safe distance away from her sister. It was only then she breathed freely. She took a moment to look at the dark mansion, her pale magical wisp casting an eerie character on the white sheets covering what was presumably furniture. It bore no clues of the slavers they drove out quite some time ago. As Bethany stepped deeper into the estate her eyes caught sight of the Amell crest hanging by the second floor door.

…

"Oh," she said as her mind finally noted that they were in the Amell estate. The estate for which she and Marian were practically wearing their fingers to the bone. Her jaw unhinged in awe. She turned to Marian and saw that she was having a very similar reaction. Bethany smiled fondly.

And then a thought sneaked up on her.

They were in their mother's ancestral home. They. She and Marian. Their mother. Shared mother. Her face warmed upon remembering her demand that Marian should change her mother.

At least she was sober; she no longer had this uncontrollable urge to cry. Ready to smother the longing with empty conversation, Bethany opened her mouth to say something, only to wordlessly close it again.

Because Marian's eyes were upon her.

_Glaring._

"Maker preserve me," she whispered to herself. Bethany spotted a nearby candle and lit it with a flick of her wrist before her senses left her yet again.

"Indeed," Marian muttered as she marched towards her. Before Bethany could even back up Marian was upon her, right at her face. "By the Void what were you thinking?" Marian demanded. The younger Hawke opened her mouth to answer but was halted by a barrage of angry nagging. "Going with Isabela to a brothel, dressed like that?" She whipped her hand to Bethany's noble frock, which was admittedly showing too much cleavage. Not to mention one side of her skirt was still hiked up to her hips. Bethany immediately straightened it out even as Marian proceeded with her lecture. "And getting shit-faced so much that you devolved into a sniveling brat...worse, you went snogging that-" Marian paused and took a sharp intake of breath, entirely red-faced to match her outburst. She spat her last words like venom.

"THAT _FLOOZY!"_

Bethany bit her lip and looked down to her feet, shuffling her shoes over each other in an attempt to ease her discomfort. "What do you want me to say?" she mumbled, feeling much like a young toddler again.

"Oh, I don't know! Sorry I guess?" Marian sighed as she ran a hand through her hair, looking at Bethany with the same mournful eyes she had whenever her younger siblings tripped over and skinned their knees.

"Sorry," Bethany offered. She kept her eyes on the floor, ashamed of her conduct, more so than her inappropriate desires at the moment. At least her sister wasn't asking her about her magical mishap. 'Sorry' absolutely won't cut that little fiasco. As silence settled between them Bethany thought that was that and they could get on to the business of exploring the Amell home...until she felt Marian's fingers on her chin. Slowly and gently, Bethany was guided into meeting her sister's eyes.

And suddenly she was hot and bothered again.

"Tell me what's wrong," Marian whispered with a small smile on her lips.

"Nothing's wrong," Bethany managed to say, turning to side to look away from Marian. Her lips brushed against Marian's fingers as she did. She gasped.

"Bethy," Marian soothed, her hand unyielding and moving from her sister's chin to her cheek. "...you know you can tell me anything."

Bethany's hand moved to Marian's wrist, willing to pull the hand away from her face. Instead, she leaned into it, closing her eyes and reveling in its warmth. Except for the calluses on the base of her fingers, Marian's hand was unexpectedly soft. Bethany hardly noticed her older sibling tensing as desire bubbled within her.

Marian audibly gulped. "_Bethy_..." she said like prayer.

Bethany's fingers wrapped like a vice around Marian's wrist when the latter tried to pull away. She pressed close to her sister's hand, covering it with her own against her cheek. If a desire demon showed itself now Bethany was as good as gone. "Please stop calling me Bethy, Marian," she pleaded, voice thick with want.

The candle behind them burned brighter, a reflection of the younger Hawke's untended passion.

"W-why?" Marian stuttered as Bethany stepped close, retreating in reply to the latter's advance. The younger Hawke, however, kept her close distance. She felt Marian's hand grow warmer against her skin as she laughed nervously. "Bethy's such a lovely name, don't you think? So much suited for...for...you know..." Marian trailed off as she pressed against her chestpiece. They only stopped when Marian's back hit the wall. With her sister sufficiently trapped, Bethany withdrew her hand from Marian's wrist to her smooth cheek; its warmth almost burning her hand. Her head was clouded with desire, not caring for the heat or her older sibling's flustered face. For once she was able to ignore those bright eyes, lingering on the equally enchanting lips, already parted as if welcoming her. She barely caught Marian whispering, "...but Bethy's perfect for a little sister." The younger Hawke shook her head and stood on her toes.

"But little sisters don't do this."

Bethany sealed her words with a kiss.

Curiously, the pure bliss of first contact broke Bethany's trance, transforming her impulsive act to a thing of agony. Marian's lips quivered against hers.

_Oh no._

The lone candle dimmed, again in response to Bethany's heart.

Bethany immediately pulled back, surprised that she didn't go further than arms length, not noticing Marian's hands locked around her waist. She looked at the door in the other room, dead set on getting away, far away from her sister, before want overwhelmed her again. As she did she offered an apology. "I'm so _so_ sorry, Sister I-"

"Hush," Marian groaned and pulled her close, kissing her again. Again? There were several things wrong with what was happening that Bethany couldn't place; especially when Marian's hand flew to the back of her neck and tipped her head back, allowing that divine mouth to press deeper against hers. Dear Maker she wasn't dreaming, was she?

Marian sucked on Bethany's bottom lip, making her gasp.

Definitely not dreaming.

As if that wasn't enough, Marian moved to the side of her face, her lips leaving a hot trail on her skin. "Is this what's wrong, Bethany?" she breathed to her ear. Bethany had trouble forming an answer, her sister's mouth felt too good. All she could do was tangle her fingers around silken hair as she tilted her head opposite Marian's lips, granting greater contact. Marian gladly obliged, kissing down to the crook of Bethany's neck. "All you had to do was ask," Marian whispered, then sucked greedily at the sensitive flesh. Another gasp and her legs became weak, making her lean on the cloth-covered table beside her. In a heartbeat Marian's hands were on the back of Bethany's hips, lifting her so she may sit on the table's edge. The weight of Marian's body pressed her back upon the smooth surface. From above her and through pleasure-hazed eyes, Bethany saw her sister's gaze upon her.

"I'll do_ anything _you ask," Marian rasped, the usually lone concern within her eyes was mixed with want.

Bethany almost climaxed on those words alone. _Anything__ she asked. _What should she ask? Her hands moved from Marian's bare neck to her leather-covered chest. "Take these off," Bethany demanded, already tugging at the pauldrons.

Marian dutifully complied and discarded her armor, pants included. The only thing left covering Marian's outline was that drab tunic she always wore beneath her leathers. Poor light notwithstanding, Bethany was again captivated by Marian's form hovering above her; her sister was flustered and panting, overtaken with desire...until those blue eyes shifted.

"Bethy wait, I-"

Hesitation.

May the Void take her if she let this chance slip.

Bethany raised herself upon an elbow and seized the back of her sister's head, pulling her in, kissing. Marian tensed but a moment before kissing back, returning the ardor of Bethany's lips until the latter retreated with the trailing tongue on her sister's lips having the final say. Marian's eyes were out of focus, seemingly dizzy. At least she learned something from that Francesca. Bethany pressed further by guiding Marian's hand to the edge of her collar and locked those blue eyes in an intense gaze. "Take me now, Marian, _please,_" she pleaded hoarsely.

Marian inhaled sharply and took action.

The hand upon Bethany's chest hooked around her collar then shoved it down to her waist, fabric and bindings yielding and freeing her breasts. Bethany had yet to feel the touch of air upon her skin when Marian's mouth covered the swell of a mound, teasing its peak with an eager tongue; the other swell likewise attended but by Marian's firm hand, rolling the tightening nipple between her fingers. Moaning between breaths, Bethany's mind had yet to wrap itself around those pleasing sensations when Marian parted her legs with her knee as her left hand slid along the length of her leg, hiking the skirt up to her hips.

And there Marian's hand stayed, slipping beneath the cloth and caressing the delicate skin of her thigh. Elegant fingers were close, _too close,_ to her core. Between the licking and touching, the mere anticipation of release sent Bethany craving for greater contact. The scratch of worn fabric against her belly reminded Bethany that Marian was still clothed.

"_Off_," Bethany whimpered as her hands on Marian's back groped blindly for the hem of the tunic.

Marian groaned with her mouth around Bethany's breast, sucking as she pulled away and released the mound with an audible pop. Bethany hissed, her eyes shooting open to a welcome sight; Marian had straightened up and was in the middle of pulling her shirt up over her head, leaving that chiseled body exposed before her. Her hands trembled as they traced the well-defined abdomen up to the curve of Marian's bound breasts. Smaller than hers...but soft nonetheless. Marian made a soft mewl that brought a smile to her lips. Bethany's hands were just about to remove the binding but Marian unfastened it herself, letting it fall freely to her waist. She stared at the bare breasts on display.

She took a moment to thank the Maker.

Bethany was just about to knead the shapely mounds but Marian was again upon her; hot, damp skin pressing against hers. Marian hummed but Bethany, poor virgin, gasped at the simple contact of breasts against breasts. She felt Marian smirk against her neck and would have said something if not for the delightful nips and kisses planted below her jaw. That delicate hand massaging the mounds of her chest wasn't too bad either. Caught in ecstasy, Bethany did not register Marian's fingers slipping beneath her skirt and hooking around her smalls until the soaked and sticky fabric was peeled from her privates. Her heart almost stopped.

With bated breath, Bethany watched as Marian drew back, tantalizing eyes locked with hers as she pulled that slip of fabric down her legs. She lifted her ankles as Marian reached them, ceremoniously discarding the article. For a moment, Marian just stood there, lips pursed and eyes wide as she watched her. Bethany wasn't sure if Marian was watching _her _or just what was below the skirt but she was far too gone to care. Bethany's entire being twitched with so much need it hurt.

"Marian..." she moaned and reached a hand towards her sister.

Marian blinked once and nodded, entwining her fingers around Bethany's own as she drew upwards, fingers of the other hand hot against the inner length of her leg. The lone, dimming candle suddenly growing brighter, Bethany panted at the feel of Marian's hand going closer to her center until she gasped; hips bucking at the first brush of foreign fingers between her weeping folds. Bethany's nails dug against Marian's hand and unto the sheets beneath as her eyes closed shut, entirely focused on the ragged breaths against her face and the taunting digits unraveling her towards release. It was leagues and leagues better than the imagined Marians she indulged in self-pleasure.

Reduced to writhing and moaning, she barely caught Marian groaning in her ear. "Curl your leg up," came the order.

Bethany did as asked and immediately felt a hot, slick wetness grinding against her thigh. Cracking her eyes open she saw Marian's pleasure-addled face; half-lidded eyes and mouth agape, her honeyed voice delivering sweet notes of need. Enthralled, Bethany captured Marian's open mouth with her own and earned herself a moan. Marian retaliated and plunged her tongue inside her mouth as the skillful fingers below upped their effort, pinching her petals close before a forceful thumb flicked her swollen nub. That little bit of movement pushed Bethany over the edge and through locked lips she cried, hips shooting up and tensing with her climax. Easing Bethany through it all was Marian; kissing, whispering, caressing her in ways that she could have mistaken as chaste if not for the fingers still stroking her entrance. Euphoria subsiding, Bethany broke their kiss as her head lolled slack with the rest of her body.

And then a lone finger slipped into her. The impending gasp was yet to leave Bethany's lips when the finger disappeared. In that short moment she already mourned its loss; until Marian slammed it back in. Bethany's back arched as her head threw back and a grating cry escaped her throat; the dying embers of need stoked again by Marian. With her back arched, Marian slipped an arm beneath Bethany's waist and pulled her close, lapping at her exposed neck as the hand between her legs thrust merrily away. Body moving of its own accord, Bethany wrapped her arms around Marian's broad shoulders; her hips bucked and met every thrust, moaning and gasping as she reached new heights. She had never touched herself this way before and never did she imagine Marian could touch her so; indelicate and demanding in stark contrast to the doting sister she knew. Not that she was complaining. It felt so good, _too good_ to be finally treated as a woman and-

"Ah!" Bethany rasped as Marian slammed two digits into her and again her back arched, hips pitching up as the burning but wonderful feeling of fullness hit her hard. Another thrust and her body started to rock.

Marian kissed the tip of her chin and whispered, "Why are you so beautiful Bethy?"

And that was it for her. Though her eyes were closed shut an explosion of light filled her sight, a feeling so divine she could have sworn she tore through the Veil and back. In the throes of orgasm Bethany could feel it all; her body curling and trembling against Marian's form, the frenzied wetness bucking against her thigh, succulent lips sucking on her throat, and the dancing fingers inside of her. For a while Bethany lay trapped in that world of pure bliss until more mundane things trickled back into her consciousness; the wet coverlet beneath them, the dying wick of a candle, her parched throat and the lovely soreness within her.

But 'mundane' certainly did not cover Marian shuddering against her, descending from her climax. It took the last bit of Bethany's strength to tilt her head up and capture Marian's quivering lips in her own, guiding her back from the cusps of carnal rapture. As the tremors ceased Bethany broke the kiss and laid Marian's slack head upon her shoulder, all the while brushing the sweaty locks of hair sticking to that fine face. Bethany almost forgot about the fingers still inside of her until Marian gently withdrew, causing another shudder through her body. She couldn't help but notice the warm slickness Marian's hand left as it trailed upwards to her mouth and then...lapped it clean. She could only stare as a blush crept on her face.

As silence settled between them Bethany watched the faltering light in the estate. Oddly _and_ thankfully her expected feelings of guilt didn't come, instead she only felt...well, _happy_ didn't even begin to cover it. With Marian upon her, breathing softly on her neck and tracing idle patterns upon her nude skin, it felt too good and right to be guilty. She chuckled instead, drawing inquiring blue eyes to her face.

"I suppose I'll be heading to deep dark Void for this," Bethany said.

Marian shifted to her side and rested her head upon her hand as the other kept its indolent caress of her sister's chest. "And 'this' being...?" she asked, in that usual manner she would chide her with.

Bethany's ample chest heaved with a sigh. "I just seduced you, Sis-...I mean, _Marian_."

Marian's hand on her chest moved to her face and earnest blue eyes met with Bethany's as those elegant fingers caressed her cheek. "And I'm thankful you did. You have _no_...well...that's for another time," Marian trailed off with a shake of her head. _"_Besides, we're going to the Deep Roads, remember? Can't be that much different."

Bethany smiled faintly. If she can't feel guilty about it, she shouldn't. "I should hope not," she coughed and cleared her throat as she pressed closer against the warm hand on her cheek. " The Void and Deep Roads, I mean."

Marian only hummed in assent and smiled, making Bethany's heart skip a beat. Marian smiled as she usually did; the same warmness and devotion she usually gifted her with, but there was something else..._something_ that was there before but she just never bothered to notice. Until now.

"Thank you, 'Bela," Bethany whispered to herself as she curled closer to her sister.

"Hmm?" came Marian's wordless question as she shifted, allowing Bethany's head on her arm.

"Nothing." She buried her face against Marian's neck and draped her arms upon the firm belly. "Could we sleep here tonight?"

"Of course, Bethy."

"It's _Bethany,_" she mumbled and feebly swatted Marian's face.

Instead of wincing, Marian merely laughed and turned her head to face her. "Fine, _Bethany,_" she gibed and flicked a finger at her nose. Bethany was about to say something about that but the tender look on Marian's face stalled her.

"I love you, by the way," Marian said simply as she tucked one of those stubborn locks on her forehead to the back of her ear.

Bethany blushed. What else could she say? She squeezed the hand on her face and whispered, "…me too, Marian."

The exhausted wick died out as they kissed.


End file.
